Dissimilar
by xByakuyaKuchikix
Summary: Starting with Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy's 4th Year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, this story follows the events that slowly tie the two schoolyard enemies together, at first as friends and eventually as something more. DM/HP Slash.
1. Chapter 1

Pintos and I have decided to start writing a Drarry FanFic together.

So here's the first chapter. :D

We're still deciding on a title that will properly fit, so be prepared to seeing it change.

Summary: Starting with Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy's 4th Year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, this story follows the events that slowly tie the two schoolyard enemies together, at first as friends and eventually as something more. How will the two wizards react to their developing relationship? Will it survive the test the many challenges and obstacles pose?

Warnings: Slash, Language, Mature Themes.

(I'm saying this once, and once only, here at the very beginning:)

_**WE OWN AND MAKE ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. HARRY POTTER BELONGS TO J. K. R.**_

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><p>The morning sun shone brilliantly through the many windows of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, blinding the crowd of students hurrying up the stairs from their Potions classroom in the dungeons. Gratuitously greeting the warmth of the sunlight, they left the freezing chill of the dungeons behind them.<p>

"Professor Snape bloody _hates_ me," a red-haired forth year complained. Another 4th year, obviously one of his friends since they were walking together towards their next class, rolled her eyes. She shook her head to rid her face of the tendrils of hair that clung to it as a gentle breeze blew her long, brown, wavy hair into her face.

"What?" the red-head snorted, having seen his companion's reaction.

"Nothing, Ronald," she sighed. "He does not hate you. He just… You aren't the world's best student, you know."

"Why, thank you, Hermione!" Ron retorted sarcastically, glaring at her.

"Cut it out guys," the third distracted forth year cut in. He had jet black hair that was always tousled and untamable, no matter how much anyone tried to brush and fix it. Beneath the locks that covered his forehead was a famous lightning bolt scar. To most people he was known as the _Chosen One_, or _The Boy Who Lived_, but to the two people walking to Charms class with him, his two best friends, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, he was just Harry Potter.

Harry's mind wandered over the events of the past few days back at Hogwarts. They had been utterly terrifying, now that he thought about them clearly. The first night there, he had been rather excited and overly ecstatic about being back; he had actually been looking forward to the drawing of names out of the Goblet of Fire for the tournament that Professor Dumbledore, the Headmaster, had announced during his annual welcoming speech. The second day had made a drastic turn for the worst when he had been applauding the people already participating in the Tri Wizard Tournament and suddenly had heard his name being called, making him the contestant from Gryffindor.

Everyone in the entire school had looked at him with utmost disdain as he made his way, half stumbling and completely shocked, to the front of the Great Hall, pointedly avoiding all gazes from his peers and the professors, Dumbledore and McGonagall included. He remembered clearly the events that had followed the drawing; being called into Dumbledore's office, the concerned objections and glances from Professor McGonagall, being told there was no way to get out of the tournament… And now he had to deal with his peer's disgusted gazes and professors' worried glances; they obviously thought he had thrown his name into the goblet himself. How the hell was he supposed to do a think like that? _Why_ would he do something like that?

Harry forced himself to suddenly snap out of his half-daze.  
>Realizing they were lagging behind the rest of the class, the trio moved a little bit faster and managed to reach the Charms classroom before their teacher, Professor Flitwick arrived. Scanning the room for an open seat, Ron groaned when he saw the only seats that were empty were in the row in front of a certain blonde-haired Slytherin and his two 'bodyguards'.<p>

"Oh, great," Harry muttered under his breath as they walked over to the empty seats.

"Who have we got here?" the blonde haired forth year sneered upon seeing the three Gryffindors approaching. "Potty, Weasel-bee, and the Mudblood, what a surprise."

"Shut your face, Malfoy," Ron growled, the only of the trio that was still provoked easily enough to voice their frustration and hatred whenever Draco Malfoy felt the need to annoy them with his snide remarks, even after four years.  
>"Hush!" Hermione snapped, instantly silencing Ron, as Professor Flitwick, an extremely short man with a moustache and dark brown hair, entered the classroom. The noise quieted down immediately when the man stepped up on his pile of books stacked behind his podium at the front of the classroom.<br>"Good morning, class!" Flitwick greeted his students cheerily.  
>Ron grumbled something under his breath about Malfoy being a nasty little git, which was inaudible to everyone but Harry and Hermione, who elbowed him hard in the side under the table.<p>

Harry turned his attention towards the professor, blocking the silent bickering between his two friends caused by Ron's continuing comments about Draco. Ron honestly didn't know how Hermione could be so polite and just ignore the blonde whenever he called her names, especially 'Mudblood'. Harry on the other hand had noticed the way Hermione took deep breathes every time Draco provoked her to effectively calm herself down.

"Today, class," Flitwick began, "I have prepared something very special for you to celebrate the Tri Wizard Tournament."

A mumble spread through the crowded room of students and all of the eyes in the classroom save for Ron and Hermione's, wandered over to where Harry sat. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, hating to be reminded of the mysterious way his name had been drawn out of the Goblet of Fire. He was sure he hadn't placed his name in the goblet… Nor had he had anyone else do it for him. Why would he? He couldn't risk his life for some stupid Tournament when the entire world was counting on him to defeat the Dark Lord, Voldemort, who had disappeared and was still to be found (not that anyone wanted to find him).

"In honor of the previous winners," Flitwick quickly continued, relieving Harry of the weight of those gazes, "You are going to research each of the winners and the charms that they used throughout the tournament, and master one of them."

The students glanced at each other, eyes lighting up with delight. Their Charms assignments were usually mind numbingly boring.

"There is one condition though," the professor began slowly, looking each of the students in the eye sternly, "You are not allowed, under any circumstances, to learn any of the Forbidden Curses or overly harmful spells."

"Now!" the short professor clapped his hands together, immediately changing the dark mood that had suddenly spread over the classroom, "I shall pass out the books with all the information in them that you will need."

Flitwick hopped down from his stack of precariously stacked books and began to search through another pile that was stacked up against the wall.

"It seems I have forgotten the books!" Flitwick turned around. "I will return in a minute with them! Don't become rowdy while I'm gone."

Without another word, the professor hurried out the door and down the corridor.

"So, Scarhead," Malfoy sneered. "Are you scared of dying during the Tournament yet?"

"Piss off, Malfoy," Ron snapped.

"Don't you dare talk to me, Weasley," the Slytherin hissed with as much venom as a snake.

"You know what you are, Malfoy? You're a filthy, disgusting little git. I bet if you didn't always have bloody Crabbe and Goyle around," Ron gestured at the blonde's 'posse', "You wouldn't be half as arrogant as you are."

"What was that, Weasley?" Draco growled, clenching his fists, ready to stand up and punch Ron at any given moment.

"Shut the hell up, Draco," Harry interjected shooting daggers at the Slytherin. "You, too, Ron."

"Watch your language, Harry," Hermione cut in.

"Yeah, Potter," the blonde sneered. "Listen to the Mudblood. Watch your language."

Harry clenched his teeth. He didn't have time to argue and worry about Malfoy with everything else that was currently going on. He turned back around to face the front of the dusty classroom and concentrated on a nonexistent stain on the far wall. Ron opened his mouth to say something but was silenced by Hermione yanking him back around to face the front like Harry and gave him the death glare.

The trio let out a relieved sigh when Professor Flitwick came back, levitating about twenty books, each of them bigger than his torso, and distributing them to each table.

"You are to work in groups of three," he instructed after every table had a book. "Each and every one of you should be working, and not allowing only one of the people in your group to do all of the work. Aim at having picked out one of the champions of the Tri Wizard Tournament by the end of today's class, and, if at all possible, have already started examining the spells they used. You should have mastered the spell by the end of the week."

When the class was sure that the professor was finished giving instructions, the students turned to their partners and began talking, some about things other than the work they were supposed to be doing. Harry had an uneasy feeling that he could sense eyes trained on him, and thought he could hear some of his classmates whispering things about him.  
><em>But then again, that could just be my paranoia<em>, Harry thought.

"So," Hermione began, pulling Harry out of his paranoid thoughts. "Shall we get started?"

Harry gave a thankful nod and glanced at Ron, who was grimacing, clearly still furious at the Slytherin sitting behind them and in pain because of Hermione's method of 'shutting him up'.

The rest of the lesson was extremely awkward for Harry; he kept feeling angry eyes on him from the row behind him. If it hadn't been for Hermione's unbreakable concentration on the task at hand, which seemed like some kind of highly contagious disease that was infecting both him and Ron, Harry thought he might have snapped and ran out of the classroom.

Finally, after Professor Flitwick dismissed the class, Harry let out a deep breath.

"I'm going to the library to work on this Charms work," Hermione began.

"Hermione!" Ron complained. "We have all week to do it!"

"Well, I'm going to get it done as soon as possible so I can concentrate on mastering the spell we're supposed to learn," the girl snapped, slightly agitated. "So are you two coming with?"

"Ugh! Fine," Ron sighed, deciding to tag along with Hermione.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, wondering what was on the young wizard's mind to keep him so preoccupied. She had noticed him staring off into space several times that day already.

"Hmm?" Harry looked up at the two, eyebrows raised slightly. "Oh! I'm not coming. I'm going to… to go for a walk. Clear my mind, you know? I'll see you back in the Common Room."

Without another word or waiting for a reply, Harry waved shortly, turned, and walked off, leaving Hermione and Ron staring after him. Hermione shook her head, deciding that if whatever it was that was on Harry's mind was important enough to tell them, he definitely would. He always did.

"Come on, Ron. Let's head over to the library."

"Alright," the red-head grumbled, also wondering what was wrong with Harry.

It was a crisp autumn day. The sky was baby blue and cloudless. The cool wind blew the colourful leaves across the school grounds. Harry tucked his head further into his golden-maroon patterned scarf and hurried along, glad that he was the only person wandering around outside at the moment. He didn't know where he was going to walk to, considering the weather. For a minute he contemplated heading over to Hagrid's hut, but decided against it. He wanted to be alone for a little while.

Several minutes of brisk walking later Harry was drawing near the Quidditch field he had come to love. He looked up at the towers in the alternating colour patterns of each of the respective houses towering over him, seemingly welcoming him. Harry didn't stop walking until he reached the center of the field and gazed at the far goals before turning around to look at the goals at the other end of the field.

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath, enjoying the moment and forgetting about his recently developed problems.

Suddenly feeling an angry presence approaching, the black haired forth year turned to see who was coming (though he had a pretty good idea who that person might be, considering the events that had conspired in Charms). Turning his head to the side, Harry saw a fuming Draco Malfoy striding towards him

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry spat, his almost pleasant and relaxed mood immediately changing to hostility.

"Filthy Potter," the Malfoy heir spat, visibly fuming, his face contorted in a nasty snarl. "You think you're the _Chosen One_? You're a disgrace to the Wizarding World! Everyone expects you to kill You-Know-Who, but you couldn't hurt a fly."

"You're an arrogant arse, Malfoy," Harry spat back with just as much hatred as Draco had just insulted him with.

"At least _I_ didn't cheat to get into the Tri Wizard Tournament," the blonde's glare was unrelentingly staring holes into Harry's head.

"My father and I have a bet going, you see," Draco began before Harry could send out a retort, walking slowly closer to him, causing the Gryffindor to back away reflexively. "I say you won't last ten minutes."

Draco paused, as if to accentuate the point he was about to make, continuously walking steadily closer to Harry, who continued to back up further trying to avoid coming into contact with the blonde. "My father disagrees. He says you won't last _five_!"

The boy's eyes danced with dark amusement, and Harry had to compose himself enough to stop seeing red and snarl at Malfoy.

"For your information, Malfoy," he spat the name, "I didn't put my name in that damn-"

Harry was cut off by his sudden impact with the side of one of the towers at the edge of the Quidditch field; he hadn't realized how far he had backed up until that moment. The Slytherin smirked, triumphantly towering over the shorter boy.

"Well look at this… I cornered the great _Harry Potter,_" Suddenly Draco slammed his hands down against the side of the tower on either side of the Gryffindor's head, causing the latter to flinch away slightly.

"Get off me, you filthy ferret," Harry tightened his hands into fists, itching to punch the other boy in the face as hard as he could.

"Why should I?" Draco pressed himself up against the black-haired boy and whispered in his ear, causing Harry to shiver and shrink away in disgust.

"Get off of me," Harry snarled, replacing the fear that had caused him to shudder seconds ago with rage.

"Why?" He repeated. Harry could hear Draco smirking, obviously having achieved his goal of intimidating him.

"Malfoy, get the hell off of-"

"_Flipendo_!" the Slytherin was thrown backwards as the spell hit him, sending him sprawling. Harry's head snapped to the side and stared, wide-eyed and relieved, at his two best friends, who were running across the field towards him. Hermione still had her wand raised and pointed at Draco, anger flaring up in her eyes, when they made it there.

"You filthy Mudblood, I'll get you for this. How dare you-"

"Stupefy!" Ron shouted, temporarily knocking the blonde, who had scrambled back to his feet and began stalking towards the three, out. He grinned for a split second before turning back to Harry.

"Thanks guys," Harry smiled sheepishly at Ron and Hermione, thankful that he had such wonderful best friends.

"Let's get out of here before he gets back up," the redhead gestured towards Malfoy lying on the muddy ground with an obvious look of disgust.

Half an hour later the trio was sitting in the Great Hall, lost in conversation. They had been the first to get there for dinner and had been completely unaware of the other students slowly dribbling into the Hall for their evening meal. They were heatedly debating why Hermione had chosen the only female champion of the Tri Wizard Tournament in history their Charms project.

"But, Hermione-"

"What, Ron? Are you sexist or something?" Hermione snapped back at the redhead, visibly irritated at her friend's criticism of her well thought out choice.

"Ron, just drop it," Harry sighed defeatedly. Unlike Ron, who continued to argue with her every time he didn't agree with her decisions and logic, Harry had learned over the past years at Hogwarts that it was no use arguing with Hermione once she had her mind set on something. Ron glared at his best friend, feeling betrayed.

"So now you're on her side, are you?"

"I said drop it, Ron," Harry half-heartedly growled, not wanting to argue with anyone any longer.

"Honestly, Ronald, I don't see why you have to argue every time-"

Suddenly, the doors to the Great Hall flew open, startling most of the students out of their easy going conversations and causing them to stare at the angry figure striding furiously through the doors. Some of the students raised an eyebrow while others snickered at the sight of a muddy Draco Malfoy fuming and stalking towards the Gryffindor table, eyes searching for someone in specific.

Several more eyebrows were raised as more students realized that the Slytherin's destination appeared to be the three seats where the Golden Trio were seated, now staring at Malfoy intently with unreadable faces. Ron shrunk back into his seat slightly when Draco reached the three and raised his fist as if to punch him square in the jaw when a snarling, familiar nasal voice spoke, stopping him.

"Mister Malfoy, if you would please lower your fist and go to your own house's table. Also, clean your robes. You are dirtying the floors of the school."

For once Harry was relieved that Severus Snape, the school's Potions Master, had interrupted. The Malfoy heir sneered disgustedly at the three Gryffindors before stomping silently over towards the Slytherin table, shooting several smirking and snickering students a menacing glare on his way, immediately silencing them and making them turn back around to face their housemates. Several minutes later, the usual comfortable noise of conversation flooded the Great Hall as if nothing had ever happened.

No one, not even the Golden Trio, noticed the mixture of nasty glares and unreadable looks of mild disgust Draco Malfoy was sending the three Gryffindors.

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><p><strong>Review please! We'd love to know what you think. <strong>

Reviews also get us writing faster.

Note: Updates on this story will most likely be slower than on my other story, _Reverse Psychology_, as that is my priority at the time. That doesn't mean that there won't be updates on this story, though! Especially if I (we) know that people are reading and reviewing.


	2. Chapter 2

Summary: Starting with Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy's 4th Year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, this story follows the events that slowly tie the two schoolyard enemies together, at first as friends and eventually as something more. How will the two wizards react to their developing relationship? Will it survive the test the many challenges and obstacles pose?

My story doesn't match up with the actual book/movie, so bare with me and Pintos, this is a fanfic after all.

I watched Goblet of Fire a couple of times, trying to get the timeline about right. If there's anything that doesn't make sense or is illogical, please let me know.

Reviews are appreciated. I'd like to thank all the wonderful people who have reviewed the first chapter and will review this and future chapters.

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><p>Several days had passed since the incident on the Quidditch pitch. Harry was frantically trying to find the Tri Wizard Champion from Hufflepuff, Cedric Digory, to warn him of the first task in the Tournament. Running through the corridors, the fourth year ignored the sneers and jibes coming from all sides along with the buttons that everyone seemed to be wearing that seemed to change from 'Cedric Digory' to 'Potter Stinks' whenever he passed.<p>

"Excuse me," he said as nicely as he could, given the circumstances. When the two students blocking his way out into the courtyard of the school didn't budge he rudely pushed through and strode towards the bench the Hufflepuff was lying on.

"Can I have a word?" He asked, ignoring the stares and insults still being fired at him.

"Uh…" Cedric seemed to have been expecting a hex being sent his way. "Sure."

Walking several feet away from any listening ears, Harry took a deep breath.

"Dragons," Cedric stared at him incredulously. "That's the first task. Dragons."

"_Are you serious?_" the very shocked Hufflepuff managed to gasp. Nodding, Harry managed a 'See you later,' before taking his chance to escape his pestering peers.

"Hey, Potter!" an all too familiar sneer came from the tree Harry was passing. Pausing and absolutely fuming he turned to face the Malfoy Heir watching him with a smirk plastered on his face.

"You remember the bet I told you about?" He began, obviously enjoying every second of humiliating him in front of everyone in the courtyard. Had no one been watching, Harry would have blasted several jinxes at him before anyone could say Quidditch. In one swift movement Draco landed on his feet, back on the ground.

Before anyone could say anything else, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Mad-Eye Moody, came storming out into the crowd of students milling around.

"Oh look Potter," Malfoy sneered, "Reinforcements. Maybe you'll last _six_ minutes with the Professor's help."

Harry didn't have time to form a coherent retort before Mad-Eye had sent a spell flying in Malfoy's direction. One second he was perfectly human, the next he was an albino ferret being flung through the air by a levitation charm coming from the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's wand. The whole courtyard burst into laughter at seeing the proud Slytherin being shoved down Goyle's trousers.

"Professor! _Professor!_" the shrill voice belonging to Professor McGonagall broke through the laughter. With a quick flick of her wand, she was at Moody's side sending him unbelieving glares.

"My father will hear of this!" A rather tousled looking Draco cried an octave higher than normally.

"Was that a threat, boy?" Mad-Eye started after the blonde, successfully chasing him off.

"_Professor! _We _never_ use Transfiguration on students as a form of punishment!"

Several minutes later Harry found himself utterly confused and slightly taken aback. After the whole incident in the courtyard, Professor Moody had demanded that Harry come with him for unknown reasons. After they had entered his office, Mad-Eye had promptly sat down in a chair in front of an odd mirror, removing one leg (his fake leg) and placing it on a shelf specifically for it.

It wasn't a minute thereafter that he had jumped right into what he wanted to talk to Harry about.

"So what do you plan to do about your Dragon?"

He had just stared at him like he had just sprouted an extra head.

"Cedric Digory, Fleur Delacour, and Viktor Krum all have strategies planned or are planning them as we speak to defeat their dragon. You need one. What are you strengths, Potter?"

"What? Uh- I can fly. I guess I'm a fair flyer…"

"Not what I heard," Moody's eyes held a hint of amusement directed at Harry's modesty.

"But Professor, I'm not allowed a broom…"

"You're allowed a wand."

Several hours later found Harry practicing summoning various objects from around the Common Room. His practice was overseen by none other than Hermione, who had mastered the same spell he was now learning over a year before.

"_Accio_," he pointed at his Potion's book that was carelessly strewn on the table across the room. It promptly zoomed in his direction, smacking him in the jaw when he was unable to catch it in time to prevent the impact.

"_Ow,_" he rubbed his jaw, glaring balefully at the book.

"You have to catch it!" Hermione scolded half-heartedly. She was trying to suppress a grin.

"Can we stop now, 'Mione?" Harry pleaded. He'd been practicing for over two hours now and was clearly looking for any excuse to cease the endless summoning of random objects over and over again.

"Fine, let's go to the library so you can read up more on dragons. It can only help you, you know," she stated when she saw the look on Harry's face that clearly shouted that he didn't like that idea one bit.

"Where's Ron, by the way?" Hermione asked distractedly.

"He's off with Hagrid," Harry remembered how Ron had frantically told him about the first task of the Tournament. He looked like he was going to have a seizure any second. That night, last night to be exact, he and Harry had snuck out of Gryffindor Tower under cover of Harry's handy Invisibility Cloak and into the Forbidden Forest where Ron and helped Bill, his older brother, deliver the dragons to.

"Oh, okay," Hermione turned around, gathered up a rather large pile of books before heading towards the exit of the Common Room. "Are you coming or not?"

Harry sighed, "Why not?"

The duo made their way through the corridors towards the library. It was mid-afternoon and most of the students were outside enjoying the dazzling weather or in their respective Common Rooms. Harry was delighted to see that they were the only people in the entire library, save the librarian, Madam Pince, and a studying first year. He really wasn't in the mood to have to deal with curious and suspicious eyes following him; it was bad enough everywhere else in the castle, even in his own Common Room.

Hermione set off to get the books she thought Harry should read along with the ones that she wanted to read while Harry went to sit down at one of the tables in the far corner. Not half a minute later, Hermione came back with a stack of books that were easily some of the biggest the other Gryffindor had ever seen. Hermione sorted through the books and handed Harry the ones that were about or mentioned dragons; he was grateful to see that the thicker books were Hermione's own.

It wasn't until several hours later that Harry or Hermione noticed the time. They had half an hour to get to the Great Hall and eat before dinner was over.

"I wonder if Ron's still at Hagrid's…" Hermione pondered as she and Harry hurried through the castle.

"Let's check Hagrid's hut if he's not at dinner." Hermione nodded.

After reaching the Great Hall, they ate quickly, not really taking in exactly what it was they were eating, both lost in their own hectic thoughts. Harry was worrying about the dragon he would have to face as the first task of the Tri Wizard Tournament and trying to ignore the gazes he was getting from the students still eating. Hermione was worrying about helping Harry and the latest Potions assignment about the Wolfsbane Potion and its ingredients' role and properties; the only reason Professor Snape assigned them such advanced work was because he had extensively taught them about werewolves the previous year. It was obvious Snape still held a grudge against the old Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Remus Lupin, who was a werewolf.

The two Gryffindors finished their dinners at nearly the same time and stood up to leave in sync with one another. Harry tripped and stumbled into the person he was walking in front of him; he hadn't been paying attention, keeping his head down and avoiding all eyes.

"Watch where you're going, Potter," a familiar voice sneered. Hermione sent the blonde a disgusted scowl, but continued walking.

"Shove off, Malfoy," Harry said with half of the usual venom, pushing past the Slytherin and heading towards the exit of the Great Hall.

Harry stumbled and caught himself on the corridor wall with one hand, the other hand flying up to his scar, which had just started hurting.

"Harry?" Hermione sounded quite alarmed. "What is it?"

"Scar," he managed to gasp out before collapsing to the floor.

The scene Harry now saw playing in front of his closed eyes was a very familiar one, one he had been seeing repeatedly in his head a lot lately. An old house, an old man climbing up the stairs to the only lit room in the house and freezing before he entered the room. Two men, one of which he knew by the name of Peter Pettigrew, or Wormtail, and the other whom he had no clue as to who he was, talking to a creature that couldn't be described as human, but still possessed human traits, that was sitting in a chair. A huge snake slithered past the old man stood frozen at the door, and a split second later, a flash of brilliant green light, and then nothing.

"Harry!" Two familiar voices called to him as Harry reclaimed his consciousness. He opened his eyes, and his surroundings slowly swam into focus.

"You gave us a right fair scare there, mate!" Ron said.

"Are you okay?" Hermione's voice was high-pitched with worry.

"Yes, I'm fine. Sorry," Harry promptly sat up and rubbed his scar. It was still tingling uncomfortably. "What did you see?"

Harry stared at his two best friends incredulously. How did they know that he had seen something?

"You were muttering nonsense, mate," the redhead shifted anxiously from foot to foot; he was well aware that Harry talked in his sleep, which was why he had a Silencing Charm put on his bed in the Common Room, and that his talking usually meant he was dreaming something rather unpleasant.

"Was I?" Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. He had been trying to hide his most recent, reoccurring dream from Ron and Hermione. "How long was I out for?"

"Less than a minute," Hermione was still watching him worriedly.

"Let's get back to the Common Room. I'll explain there."

"So you're saying that Voldemort is trying to get to you, that he _needs_ you for something he has planned?" Hermione was interrogating Harry, who had just finished telling his friends about his dream; the Trio had placed a Muffliato Charm around them to assure that no one overhead them.

Harry nodded. "This wasn't the first time I've seen that either," he hesitated, ignoring his now wide-eyed friends, "It was the dream I had every night for a month before the start of term."

"Why didn't you tell us sooner?" Hermione was almost outraged. "Have you spoken with Dumbledore about it?"

"No," Harry said crisply. "And I don't plan on doing so. I have more important things to worry about, like, for example, the dragon I have to face."

"But-"

"Look, 'Mione," Harry interrupted. He sighed, "I don't want to start an argument about this. I'm tired and going to bed."

Ron, who had been sitting passively next to Hermione, stood up and left with Harry after they had both bid her good night. The duo quickly changed into their pajamas and lay down in bed. Ron was asleep within a minute, while Harry lay there staring at the canopy of his bed wondering how Voldemort planned to make his life a living Hell this time.

It wasn't until well past midnight that Harry finally dozed off into a light, fitful sleep.

The next day was Saturday, and Dumbledore had planned a trip to Hogsmeade. He had explained to the school at one of the dinners that it would be an excellent way to start interschool relationships. Harry stalked down to the Great Hall, late for breakfast. Ron and Hermione were already almost finished with their food when he sat down.

"Morning," the dark haired teenager mumbled drearily as he piled scrambled eggs onto his plate. He hadn't slept well and it showed: he had bags under his bloodshot eyes and look like he was going to fall asleep at any given moment.

"Good morning," Hermione greeted cheerfully, seemingly oblivious to the other's exhaustion.

None of the Trio said much while they finished up eating and stood up to head down to Hogsmeade. The walk was uneventful; the three forth years chatted about their assignments and classes and, as they drew nearer to Hogsmeade, which stores they wanted or needed to visit. No one mentioned Harry's dreams; it was like just speaking of it was taboo.

When they finally reached the village, the Trio headed straight to the Hogsmeade branch of Flourish and Blotts, since Hermione wanted new books and Ron and Harry didn't dare argue with her. After purchasing an in-depth book about Dragons that she said that Harry needed to read right away, Hermione had also purchased several books on various topics, including Potions, her favorite subject if Professor Snape weren't so cynical and hateful, and History.

As if some invisible chains had been severed the minute the Golden Trio left the bookstore, Ron and Harry took off running towards the other end of Hogsmeade to visit Jonko's and Honeyduke's. Some time later they came back out of the stores, levitating heavy looking bags filled with goods behind them. Hermione was sitting on a bench reaching one of her newest books titled _Rare Potions Ingredients and Their Uses._ Ron made a barfing noise when he saw the title.

"Why do you read these things, Hermione?" Ron asked, frowning. Said witch merely rolled her eyes, shut her book, and stood up.

"Are you finished shopping for useless items?" She pursed her lips, surveying the huge bags of candy and joke items. "I already purchased new quills and parchment for us."

She handed each of the two boys a small bag of said items.

"Let's go have a Butterbeer," Ron suggested. Hermione's face lit up and she nodded.

"Sure!"

"You guys go ahead, I want to take a walk; I'll join you later," without another word Harry walked off. He had developed a rather annoying habit of spending time alone and going for walks when Ron or Hermione suggested that they do something together. It didn't happen often enough for it to be overly suspicious or offending, but it did happen. Ron merely shrugged it off and tugged Hermione off towards the Three Broomsticks.

Harry took his time walking down the familiar path towards the Shrieking Shack. He minded wandered back to the previous year when he had swore to murder Sirius Black in the woods by the Shack. It seemed like an eternity ago. So much had happened that year. Sirius had turned out to be innocent and was the family member Harry had never been able to have. He was like a father to him. Harry couldn't understand why Dumbledore wouldn't allow him to live with his godfather, Sirius, instead of with the dreadful Muggles he was forced upon during the summer holidays.

The black-haired forth year was so caught up in his thoughts he didn't notice someone following him until he heard a twig snap several yards behind him. Grabbing his wand, he spun around, pointing his wand at a glaring Draco Malfoy.

"Why are you following me, Malfoy?" Harry hissed. If he didn't know any better, he would think that the blonde was stalking him.

"_Following_ you, Potter?" the Malfoy Heir laughed. "I'm not _following_ you, Potter. I'm trying to get you alone so I can have my revenge."

Harry's mind jumped. Should he just stun him and run away? No, that was un-Gryffindor-ish behavior.

Before he could form another coherent thought, Harry was knocked backward by a quick spell. When had Draco drawn his wand? Turning, the Gryffindor ran into the woods, hoping to find a tree to hind behind of unnoticed so he had some time to come up with a plan of how to deal with the glowering Slytherin.

"_Expelliarmus!_" the blonde shouted. Harry's wand flew towards Draco as he was thrown backwards and to the ground by the brute force of the spell.

"Give me my wand back, Malfoy!" Harry quickly got back to his feet, fist clenched at his sides.

"No," he said simply. He seemed to contemplate something for a minute, before smirking. Half a second later, Draco had disappeared. Harry tensed. He knew he hadn't disappeared into thin air, he had most likely cast a Disillusionment Charm upon himself.

Harry's suspicions were confirmed when he felt a fest grab the collar of his shirt and push him back against the tree; a wand was poking rather harshly into the side of his throat.

"Let go of me," the Gryffindor growled. Harry was hyperaware of every sensation due to the sudden rush of adrenaline. He felt the bark of the tree against his back, the wand poking into his throat, his collar tight around his neck, warmth radiating mere centimeters away from him, heavy breath falling over him from the invisible blonde hovering over him…

Harry snapped out of it. What the hell was he thinking? Sure, he knew he was homosexual for quite some time, since he had never really found any girl to be attractive (good looking, sure; attractice, no), but this was _Malfoy._ _Draco_ Malfoy, his arch nemesis since his first days at Hogwarts. There was absolutely no doubt in Harry's mind that he despised the Malfoy Heir almost as much as he despised Voldemort, which was definitely saying something.

"Let go," Harry repeated. He thought he had finally gotten some form of cooperation out of the blonde with the wand was pulled away from his throat and the fist clenching his shirt collar was withdrawn, but was sorely mistaken when a disillusioned fist slammed into his face, busting his lip.

A short moment later, Draco lifted the Disillusionment Charm, turned, and strode away, looking like the wealthy, powerful, and triumphant aristocrat he was raised to be. He didn't even glance back.

Harry groaned and placed a hand over his bleeding lip. Malfoy was going to pay for that. Anger started simmering in him as he stalked off towards the castle; he had totally forgotten that he was supposed to meet Ron and Hermione at the Three Broomsticks for a Butterbeer after he had 'gone for a walk'. Thankfully he seemed angry enough to the general public to stop the curious from asking what had happened as he passed through Hogsmeade.

When he finally made it back up to the castle, most of the anger had given way to the hate he was used to feeling towards Malfoy, just intensified. Instead of hunting him down like the irrational piece of his mind was telling him to, Harry made his way towards the Gryffindor Common Room, glad that most of the students had decided to go to Hogsmeade instead of staying at the castle.

After reaching his dorms, he dropped down onto the bed and glared at nothing in particular. Drowsiness eventually overcame him and he fell asleep, thinking about how odd his hatred towards the blonde Slytherin was. Sure, he was a pompous bastard most of the time, but why did they hate each other? His logical mind had told him it was just one of those things, that he was allowed to hate people for whom they were and that it was natural and human to do so; the other part told him that it still didn't explain it.

* * *

><p>So, what do you think?<p>

There's absolutely no attraction between the two of them at this point in time; it'll take a while for either of them to realize that they could fall hopelessly in love with one another, so don't expect them to be head over heels within the next probably ten chapters.

I'll be updating _Reverse Psychology_ next; I'm going to try to keep it a regular routine: one chapter of RP, then one of Dissimilar.


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